Unconditional
by Jaye Reid
Summary: Unconditional means - absolute, not subject to condition, (psych.) instinctive response to stimulus. Well that basically explains this story!


Unconditional

By Jaye Reid

Commenced: 21.05.2000

Completed: 14.06.2000

Disclaimer: I've borrowed the toys again. Different ones this time. But, either way, they are still owned and operated by the wonderfully creative people at Southern Star and Water Rats. Song lyric credits at end.

*** STEAM WARNING ***

Rating: NC17 or R depending on what part of the world you are from.

This story is not for the faint at heart.

Sexual content may offend and I accept no responsibility for any trauma experienced by anyone who reads this fic. That also includes frostbite from the icy bath required on completion.

If you do not think you should read, please stop now.

Authors notes: The Queen of Steam has re-emerged from her dormant steam state. It has been awhile since I have written any steam. Hope this makes up for it.

Thanks to the RatPak for their encouragement on this one! What would I do without you guys?

~*~*~*~*~

Emma Woods sat alone at the bar wondering how she always seemed to find herself in these situations.

"Of course I don't mind," she had yelled to Tayler over the din of the music. The decibel level would have closed down any construction site. It had been a rare opportunity for the girls to glam up and party together since Tayler had left the Water Police. Pol-air was agreeing with her, thought Emma. She looked happier than ever. Now Tayler was leaving Emma again. But this time on the arm of a very attractive guy. With a cheeky grin and a wave, she mouthed a 'see ya Woodsie' as she headed out the door and into the night.

So in the best Valentino copy a police constables salary could buy, she ordered another black Russian and looked around for a familiar face. Emma doubted she would find anyone. Again, somewhere Tayler had suggested. Like the dress she was barely wearing. She wasn't quite sure how Tayler had convinced her to buy it. She felt good in it, abet nervous that everything may not stay where it should.

She glanced at her watch, it was almost one am. Finish her drink and head home she told herself.

"I'll have a vodka thanks."

She jumped in surprise at the voice. She hadn't been taking any notice of the person who had just decided to occupy the bar stool beside her. She spun around to face him.

"Rourkie? What are you doing here?"

Lance Rourke was caught off-guard, almost as much as Emma had been.

"Woodsie?" he queried with surprise. He looked her up and down as a grin spread across his face. "I didn't recognise you. You look so… so…."

"Different?" she quizzed, returning the smile.

"Yeah. Different alright. I saw you from over the other side of the dance floor. But I didn't realise it was you. I was hoping to…" He stopped mid-sentence, realising what he was about to say.

"Hoping to what?" asked Emma with a mischievous grin.

"Ah nothing really," he replied as he tried to compose himself.

Emma smiled, knowing she had caught him out. "Hoping what? You could try and pick me up? But because it's only *me* you're not even going to try?"

Lance picked up his drink, took a mouthful and shook his head. "I've dug myself into a bit of a hole here haven't I? *And* I think I've fallen in."

"Oh I think your analysis of the situation is spot on there Senior Sergeant," she laughed.

"Great. I'm not going to live this one down am I?"

"Depends," she replied. "Tell me what you were going to say."

"Sorry? Going to say? When?" he asked sounding confused. Why did women always have to confuse him he thought.

"Well, you *were* going to try and pick me up. So… pretend it isn't me. Come on… you must have a line? You know one that works *everytime*"

Lance laughed. "You're really enjoying this aren't you?" he asked.

"Yes. And stop stalling – the line?" she repeated.

"Well first," Lance started, realising there was no way out, "I would have waited until your glass was empty and offered to buy you another drink."

Emma picked up her near empty glass, sculled the remaining drink before putting the glass down, heavily, on the bar infront of Lance.

"Okay, you can buy me a drink," she stated.

Lance looked at the empty glass and then to Emma.

"Black Russian," she added. "What next?"

"Black Russian?" he asked with a quizzical glance.

"Yep, don't ask. Let's just say a hangover from my academy days. Now… what next?"

"Hell Woodsie, come on. What do you really want to know for? This is a bit too strange for me."

"So you're saying you're not interested in me then?" she asked.

"No. I didn't say that."

"So you're saying you are?" she smirked.

Lance didn't know how to answer, so chose not to try.

"So what are you doing here anyway?" he asked.

Emma laughed. "Is *that* your second line? Gees Rourkie, I would have thought you'd think of something more original than that!"

"No… no… that is *not* my 'next line'. I mean it, really. I never thought I would find you in some pick-up place like this?"

"Ha… what 'all the gin joints in town' theory?" she asked. "Nah… came here with a friend. She *found* someone."

"Ah me too," he replied.

"You sure about that?" she grinned. "If I ask the barman he wont know your middle name and what your favourite childhood toy was?"

"Hey! Not nice. I could say the same about you," Lance replied. "Nope, Jim left with this little red-head about twenty minutes ago."

"Red-head?" queried Emma.

"Yep."

"She wasn't wearing a purple strapless number by any chance?" Emma continued.

"Oh you're joking?" laughed Lance. "Yeah that was her. Your friend?"

"Certainly was," Emma chuckled. "She was the one who transferred over to Pol-air last year. You know, the one that Gavin mentions from time to time."

"Ah well this could be interesting. Jim is SPG, not that he'll tell her that," remarked Lance.

"And I can't see Tayler revealing her occupation either. So enough about them, are you going to get me that drink?"

"You really want one?"

Emma stopped and looked at her empty glass… "Nah, not really. I should be off home."

"And you intend on getting there how? The coach waiting out the back Cinderella?"

Emma laughed. "No, it turned back into a pumpkin at midnight."

"Well how about I give you a lift home?" he asked as he downed his drink.

"How many of those have you had?" she replied nodding towards his empty glass.

"No, its fine. This was only my second for the night. Getting too old to write myself off these days."

"And then you wouldn't remember *who* you took home," she laughed as she slid off the bar stool. "Come on then Prince Charming, take me home."

"You'd want to be careful about remarks like that. I might just take you literally," he smiled.

"And what would you say if that was fine by me?" she replied.

Lance did another double take. Not really sure what to say, again she had caught him off guard. "You know you're seriously scaring me," he laughed nervously.

"Oh… and that's a good or a bad thing?" 

"At this point I'm not too sure, but let's get out of here," he replied.

"Suits me fine, lead the way!"

On leaving the club, they were greeted by the usual scene. Brightly lit street, underage kids hovering after being rejected at the door along with the ones too drunk to stand.

The cold night air slapped both of them in the face. Emma stumbled and was saved from making an ungracious display on the footpath by a strong pair of arms attached to an equally impressive torso.

"Thanks," offered Emma as she stopped and steadied herself, noting that Lance hadn't let go.

"You okay?" he asked in a concerned tone.

"Yeah… yeah. I tripped on something or perhaps it is just the cold. It was so stuffy in there."

'Or too many Black Russians?" he asked smiling.

"Ah nah… I've built up an immunity against them," she laughed.

"So you're okay?"

"Yes, I'm okay, you *can* let go of me now," she replied.

"Who said I wanted to?" he asked seriously.

Emma gazed up into his eyes and lost herself there for what was probably a few seconds but felt like an eternity. She had been happy to flirt, play the cat and mouse game. She had always thought he was gorgeous, but he had never shown the slightest bit of interest.

"You're place or mine then?" she replied, almost waiting for him to surrender, back down and change his mind.

"Depends on whose place is closer I suppose," he replied, surrender wasn't part of his current agenda.

"I'm in Glebe," Emma offered in reply.

"Then I'm closer."

"Your place it is," she replied.

As they traveled the short distance to Lance's house, the only sound was emanating from the car stereo. Emma smiled to herself, a fitting song she thought as she watched the night-time traffic move around them.

__

~~ the only thing I want

the only thing I need

the only thing I choose

the only thing that looks good on me… is you ~~ #

Emma playfully ran her hand along his thigh, resting it briefly on his knee before moving it along higher.

"If you keep doing that," commented Lance, breaking the silence, "I'm going to have to stop the car and throw *both* of us into the back seat."

Emma grinned and glanced around. "I think the days of backseats ended years ago for me. I'm too tall to enjoy myself!"

"Well I suggest you might like to keep that hand still then," he replied.

Emma smiled and stopped her hand from roving. Lance glanced at her mischievous smile before picking her hand up from where she had decided to rest it and moving it back to his leg. 

"I think *here* could be safer," he said.

"Are you sure about that?" she smirked.

"*Very* sure," he replied.

~*~

Lance fumbled with the keys in the half light, trying to open his front door.

"This place will be freezing," he stated as he finally got the door open. "I'll just put on the heating."

Emma grabbed his arm as he tried to get across the room to the heating controls on the wall. She pulled him close.

"Let's just create our own heat tonight?" she suggested.

"That sounds like an interesting prospect. I get the feeling that you are a woman who knows what she wants?"

"You could say that. So tell me, what's number 3?" asked Emma.

"Number 3?" he repeated.

"Yeah you know. 'Can I buy you a drink, your place or mine' and then what?"

"Are you really sure about this?" he asked, looking at her seriously.

"That's the next line? You leave that one a bit late don't you? No, come on. What would you say now?" she asked as she pressed her body into his, "remember pretend it isn't me."

"I don't want to pretend it isn't you Emma. I want to *know* that this is going to be you and me," he replied as he took a step back and focussed is eyes on hers.

"And you want to know if I was sure?" said softly as she pulled at his shirt, untucking it and running her hands across his body.

"Yeah."

"Well, does this answer your question?" she asked as she drew her body up to Lance, pressing her lips against his, and kissed him hungrily. She continued to run her hands over his body under the shirt. Emma knew this guy was well put together. The diving wetsuits didn't leave a great deal to the imagination. And as much as Emma hated to admit it, size did matter to her. Somewhere in her mind-spinning conscious she was glad she had judged this fact about him well. And she had a sneaking suspicion the this craftsman knew how to use his equipment to optimum performance. If he didn't, Emma was sure there was a lesson or two that she could teach him.

There was only one thing she wanted now, and that was to recreate as many of the fantasies about this guy that she had been secretly harboring since he joined the water police. She released her lips from his and gave him a cheeky smile. "Well, did that answer it or not?"

"Oh yeah… definitely answered my question," he replied.

He slipped one of the shoe-string straps off her shoulder and down her arm, then repeated the process with the other side. Lance ran his hands up her arms, along her bare shoulders before finishing either side of her face. He tipped her head towards his to kiss her prior to retracing the journey of his hands with his mouth. She groaned quietly in anticipation, her whole body melting under his touch.

Emma pulled Lance's shirt over his head, ran her hands across his chest and now along his arms, no longer restricted by the fabric. His arms were muscular and the strength he possessed was seriously turning her on. For a second she cursed the creation she was wearing, knowing the side zip could prove an obstacle for the unfamiliar.

Their mouths were still locked in combat when she unzipped the dress herself, took one of his hands and placed it purposefully on one of her breasts. She was leaving him no question as to what she wanted.

Lance was surprised with the forwardness of her actions. But if she was going to lead the way he was determined to follow.

They stumbled backwards, her back now pressed up against the wall. There was no where she could go, he held the power. She fumbled with his belt buckle while he levered his shoes off and kicked them backwards. 

They had built up a strong trust and mutual respect during their working hours. With their clothes unceremoniously scattered around them, second thoughts were banished in a split second.

"I want you here and I want you now," demanded Emma in a low controlled voice.

Her words excited him more than he thought possible. He took her hand to lead her to the bedroom, but she pulled him back to her, their bodies again touching.

"What part of here and now didn't you understand Senior Sergeant?" she asked.

He gave her a cheeky smile, "I want you in my bed."

"Hmm… how about a compromise then?" she whispered in his ear before nibbling at his earlobe.

"Oh? And what might that be?" he replied wondering just how much longer he could maintain his self control. Lance was finding it increasingly difficult to think about anything.

"Well," she started as she wrapped her body around his, "here and *now* and then there and *then*. Do I really look like I am in a hurry to go home?"

"Ah, there's only one thing *you* look like you're in a hurry to do," he gently laughed.

"Well… shut up and show me what you are capable of," she replied.

Her statement released his safety catch. No more thoughts of self control or soft cool sheets. She had written her own search warrant and handed it to him willingly.

He had a few of his own fantasies to recreate.

~~ Well if you're lookin' for trouble

I'm the man to see

If you're lookin' for satisfaction

I'm satisfaction guaranteed

I'm as cool as a body on ice

Or hotter than a rollin' dice

Send you to heaven

Take you to hell

I ain't foolin'

Can't you tell ~~ +

What ensued could only be described as frenzied and frantic. With one sweep of his hand, the contents from the top of the hall table were scattered on the floor.

Her blue eyes widened in surprise as Lance unceremoniously lifted her onto the table top. At first the cold timber sent a shockwave through her bare body. But the chill was soon replaced by heat.

Passions were ignited.

Bodies entwined.

Anything remotely cognitive banished.

It was primal.

Unrepenting.

Urgent.

As Emma balanced herself on the edge of the table against his body, vague recollections of previous conversations with Lance flashed in her mind. Could she have foreseen this night? Would it have changed anything if she had?

She doubted it.

It was obvious that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. And she suspected he would fulfill her fantasies with more intensity than she had dared to imagine.

Her mind was spinning out of control. It was as if she was underwater without enough oxygen. Her body screaming out as she headed upwards towards the surface of the waves – from the darkness of deep water to the rippling surface. Holding her breath, rolling with the waves.

Needing to breathe as she neared the surface…

Holding on and on and on and….

They melted together in waves of ecstasy.

His strong arms around her body, saving her from drowning in a sea of swirling bliss. 

She rested her forehead on his shoulder, unable to do anything else in her current state. Not wanting to move, wondering if she was capable of going anywhere. Her body and mind seemed to find themselves in separate realms. Lance lifted her face up to his, kissing her closed eyelids gently. Emma opened them slowly, wondering if she would find that is was yet another of the erotic dreams she had been having about him. But he was there. And this was better than any fantasy.

She opened her mouth to speak, not that she knew what she wanted to say. But it didn't matter. Lance placed a finger across her lips and then replaced that with his own lips. The kiss was gentle and soft. Contrasting their previous behavior greater than silk and sandpaper.

He ran his hands across her face and through her hair.

"My bed awaits us Cinderella," he whispered. "This night has just begun."

She groaned quietly at the thought of experiencing his body united with hers again. How much of this could she take? She smiled to herself as she knew the answer was as much as he was willing to give.

She took one of his hands and playfully sucked at the tips of his fingers, one by one.

"Lead the way," she replied with a smile.

~*~

Lance wasn't sure what it was that woke him. He controlled the urge to leap out of bed at the sound of his front door opening and then closing. Somewhere in his sleep deprived brain it registered that the traffic was outgoing and not incoming. The sound of a vehicle, undoubtedly a taxi, pulling away from the front of the house seemed to back up the theory as well. He really didn't need more evidence, but the indent in the pillow beside him indicated Emma had left.

He glanced towards the bedside clock, only to find his view of the time obscured by a slip of paper. He stretched his arm out, one eye closed as if in deep concentration and plucked the note from its resting place. He blinked several times before his eyes focussed on the few words she had written.

__

'Once in your life you should do something just because.

Catch you at work.

Emma'

Lance dropped the note back on the pillow beside him. The sheets around him still carrying the smell of her perfume, of her body.

He smiled and decided *just because* was as good a reason as any.

The End

# Lyrics from 'The only thing that looks good on me is you' B. Adams/R. Lange

Album: Bryan Adams – 18 'Til I Die

+ Lyrics from 'Live Wire' Young/Young/Scott

Album: AC/DC – High Voltage.


End file.
